


Boom, Clap!

by notmyyacht



Category: Crash Pad (2017), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Catboy Stensland, Crack Treated Seriously, Crossover Pairings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), I Don't Even Know, Idiots in Love, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon, Recreational Drug Use, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, everybody is bi/pan, not a/b/o
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24905101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmyyacht/pseuds/notmyyacht
Summary: Abducted by aliens with no hope of escape on his own, Stensland must befriend the self-proclaimed God of Mischief in the neighboring cell in order to find a way out and get back to Earth.
Relationships: Loki/Stensland
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. *water gets poured on face* hello?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not gonna lie to y'all. This is the MOST self-indulgent thing I've ever written. I started writing it back in March and I haven't stopped since! At first, I didn't plan on posting it, but after I hit the 15k mark, I figured SOMEONE would probably find it as amusing as I am, so here we are. I'm having an absolute blast writing for these two and I hope you will join me on this weird-ass ride of a fic!

_ I need to lay off the weed. _

It certainly wasn’t the first time Stensland had thought this (or even attempted to put the thought into action soon after), much less the first time he had thought it the moment he had woken up from some batshit crazy trippy dream.

He managed to drag himself out of bed, half asleep, and make his way to the bathroom. His head felt fuzzy and his scalp itched. Too lazy to scratch at the skin, he instead pulled his clothes off and turned the shower on. His eyes stayed half-closed the entire time; a feeling akin to a hangover ached his body and he shivered. He didn’t feel nauseous, but his body felt heavy with exhaustion. 

With the water hot enough, he stepped under the spray and a more relaxed shudder ran through him. It was one of those showers where he hadn’t bathed in a while and he could practically feel a layer of grim slide right off his body. More awake now, Stensland squeezed some shampoo into his hand, doled a bit into the other hand, then lifted both to card through the untamed ginger strands. Finally, he scratched at his scalp, his hands sliding over the two large bumps sticking out of his head-

_ Wait. _

Stensland’s eyes widened.

_ No fucking way.  _

He traced his fingers along the edges of the bumps, and what was worse, he could  _ feel _ his own hands on them. Stensland screamed. 

  
  


He was pacing, waiting, and practically wearing his footsteps into the floor. At last, there was a knock at the door and Stensland sprinted to open it. 

There stood Lyle, who gave a friendly smile.

“Oh thank god. Get in here!” said Stensland, grabbing Lyle by the sleeve and dragging him inside the apartment, promptly closing the door. 

“Geez man, take it easy. You okay?” asked Lyle, following Stensland into the living room, eying his apparel the whole time. It wasn’t uncommon to find his former roommate in his bathrobe, but the beanie shoved down over damp red hair was curious. 

“Lyle, you are not going to fucking believe this!”

“What happened?” He mentally noted the way Stensland had his arms folded and tucked in close to his chest; the way he couldn’t seem to stay still. Lyle asked more calmly, “Sten, tell me.”

“What day is it?” 

“Saturday.”

“And the date?”

“The twentieth of April. Dude, what-?”

“I have no memory of the past week.” 

“What?”

Stensland anxiously rubbed his upper arms as he started to pace again. “Last thing I remember was Linda’s birthday party. I remember getting home, taking off my shoes and tossing them on the floor-” He gestured to the shoes still haphazardly thrown in opposing sides of the room. “I sat down on the couch and I-I think I turned the TV on. After that, it’s a giant blur. I remember a bright light, voices, the feeling of floating, a fucking migrain… an ache at the small of my back.” 

He stared unfocused at the ratty couch, his mind attempting to chase the fragments of his memories. “I thought… I woke up this morning and thought it was all a dream. But it wasn’t.”

At last, he glanced at Lyle, who returned the look with one of concern. 

“I guess that explains why we didn’t hear from you,” he responded calmly.

Frustration ate at the edges of Stensland’s patience.

“You don’t fucking get it, do you? Something  _ happened _ to me. It wasn’t a bad trip and it wasn’t a dream! Something took me! I think I was abducted by  _ aliens! _ ” Stensland hated the words the moment they left his mouth, but he stood by them. 

The concerned crease knitting Lyle’s brow only grew.    
“Stensland, do you have any-”

“Any idea how fucking insane that sounds? How stupid? I know! I know… But I have no other explanation. If I were you, I’d also say I’m crazy. But aliens are real, we both blipped out, we know this-”

“That was different-”

“It was different, but it happened! And  _ this  _ happened and I have proof!” This wasn’t how Stensland wanted to do this, but Lyle needed to see, to understand. Obviously the gradual approach wasn’t working.

Stensland pulled the beanie off his head and waited for the reaction.

Lyle must have not been able to see them clearly at first, so Stensland tried to flatten the hair around them best he could - and oh god they  _ twitched _ . Without the competition of the rest of the hair, Lyle could see them now. 

“What the fuck?” he muttered. 

Upon the top of Stensland’s head were two cat-like ears in a ginger hue similar to the hair they were nestled in; turned to the side, they gave away Stensland’s unease. 

“And I know what you’re thinking,” he said, stepping closer and grabbing Lyle’s hand and putting it on his head. There. He could feel them and where they met the rest of his head; they were real alright.

Lyle jerked his hand back as if burned.

“What the fuck, Sten!?”

“That’s not the worst of it.” Stensland untied the sash around his waist and hiked up the back of his robe, exposing his backside. Being roommates for years, seeing each other naked wasn’t exactly new, but that wasn’t what got Lyle’s next reaction. There, at the base where the small of his back met his ass was a long, ginger cat-like tail. 

Lyle swore again, his jaw dropping.

Stensland covered himself and once again folded his arms close to his chest. 

“I’ve been freaking out all morning,” he said.

“And you think aliens kidnapped you and, what, experimented on you?”

“Yeah. It accounts for the lost time and the new appendages.”

“Holy shit, dude.”

“I know. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Lyle sat down on the couch, occasionally (and often) glancing at the top of Stensland’s head. Feeling self-conscious, Stensland replaced the hat and began to pace again. 

“What if you contacted the Avengers?” said Lyle. 

“And what could they possibly do? Remove any trace of feline from my body? Find out who exactly kidnapped me then do nothing about it?” Stensland frowned, his tail slightly swaying under his robe. 

“You said you’re missing a week of your memory. What if they could help you get it back? Find out what happened?”

“I know what happened,” said Stensland, shaking his head. “And I don’t want to remember it.”

The ladies at the bar down the street were never judgmental when it came to Stensland. It was one of the appeals of spending time with them. In fact, none of them so much as batted an eye when he showed them his new ears.

“Oh my, Stensland. Those are adorable!” said Ella. The other women all nodded in agreement. 

“Girls like cats. You’ll find a girlfriend in no time now,” Denise said with a grin.

It wasn’t exactly making him feel any better about being experimented on, but it was comforting to know that having cat ears and a tail wasn’t as weird as it probably was a few years ago.

Still, he allowed himself to get drunk and not care for a little while.

Stumbling back to his apartment was far from new, though that’s why he did it. It was familiar. The constant wobbling and trying to find his feet as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. The trial and error of trying to get the right key in the lock of his front door. Finally opening the door and trying not to slam it too hard behind himself (or else there’d be a shouting from the landlady in the morning). 

In true familiar drunk Stensland fashion, he haphazardly dropped the set of keys on the floor of the foyer. The loud  _ clank _ of the metal on wood wasn’t a new one, but it seemed to be for whoever was waiting for him in the living room. The surprised yelps were not familiar and it wasn’t until Stensland stumbled into his living room and saw them for himself that he realized this.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. There, standing in the center of the room were two brown hooded figures, each standing at an intimidating nine-foot-three. Stensland stared up at them, completely unable to see their faces.

“Oh shit. Not again!” he proclaimed with a frown.

One of the figures lifted what looked like a super soaker designed by HR Giger, and pulled the trigger. Everything went black.

Day after day it started the same. At least, Stensland could only guess that days had passed. Stensland would wake in his cell, be awake for a certain period of time during which at least two meals were given, then he would feel tired enough to go to sleep for a while. It was impossible to tell how long he was out.

His cell was a small space about the size of his kitchen on Earth, which only had a cot in one corner, and a toilet and sink in the other. No mirror. The only window he had was the transparent front wall that he had learned the hard way on his first day not to touch, lest he receive a shock. He had no view, only the offwhite wall on the opposing side of the walkway separating the cell. The only times he ever saw any other soul was when the occasional guard would pass by -another of the hooded figures he had seen in his living room. 

Stensland heard nothing but the sounds in his own cell, meaning he had to occupy himself in order to keep from going crazy. He would sit in front of the invisible side of the cell and find shapes in the strange white paint job on the opposite wall. One day he tried to do what jacked guys in prison movies did, namely work out; he lasted about two minutes before he gave up on trying to beef up his biceps. 

Most times he wished the cell wasn’t soundproof; if he wasn’t the only prisoner, it would be nice to hear his fellow inmates making noise. Just something to cut through the silence. He’d read in a magazine some time ago about how sound deprivation for a significant amount of time can take a toll on one’s mental state. Stens began to wonder how long he would have to wait in this cell, with only himself to make noise, before he lost his marbles.

Lying in the quiet became so constant, he began having a hard time falling asleep. The only way to fix this, he found, was to sing himself to sleep. Or cry. Crying himself to sleep was something he did quite frequently here. Once in a while during the waking hours he would pass the time by reciting the dialogue of his favorite movie scenes to himself; his eyes would slide shut and he would picture the scene in his head.

Food came to him through the ceiling. A circular slot would open and a metal crane would emerge, remove the empty tray of Stensland’s last meal, then replace it with a new one. The crane would then retract completely and the slot would close immediately. Once - and only once - did Stensland try to use the hole in the ceiling to escape during mealtime, only to receive another shock the moment he tried to climb up the crane.

It was bright in the cell and it would only dim when sensors indicated Stensland was asleep, which didn’t exactly help his annoying sleeping problems. He wondered if that was the point.

Stensland lost track of how many days he’d been there. He knew if the ginger scruff he was growing was any indication, then it was a long time.

Stensland knew he was going to go mad sooner rather than later. 

He got used to the silence and the bright room over time. He began sleeping more, just to fill the boredom. 

The loud shouting of the alien language was what woke him, but it wasn’t what got him up. 

_ Must be another nightmare _ , he thought, curling in on himself with his back to the room, tail curled around his thigh. 

Then he felt it. The familiar shock only now it was concentrated and burning into his right shoulder blade. He screamed and leaped out of the cot. Scrambling to his feet, wide-eyed with his hands up, palms out, he stared up at the hooded figure standing over him. It yelled something angrily and jabbed at the air with a long metal stick, threatening. 

“Alright! Alright!” Stensland yelled back and managed to get his wobbly legs under him. 

The figure said something else and gestured for him to go over to the transparent cell wall, which Stensland realized was now completely gone. There stood two more of the figures, each with their own shocking sticks. 

He kept his hands above his head as he was led from the cell and stepped into the narrow hallway for the first time. Stensland glanced both ways, observing that it was the same in either direction: the solid wall on one side and a line of cells on the other, both seemingly stretching forever. 

One of the hooded figures shoved him in the shoulder, urging him to move forward, through the right-hand passageway. He lowered his hands without any hostility from his captors and walked. 

Stensland swallowed thickly as he passed by the cells on his right, allowing a glance in each of them. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not that they were all empty. 

“Am I your only prisoner?” he asked, his own voice sounding far too weak to sound like him. 

The captors said nothing. “Where are you taking me? Please, answer me.”

One of the two figures behind him replied in their language and Stensland wondered why he even bothered. 

At last the corridor ended and Stensland was led into a more open area, where more hooded figures stood about. The figure directly behind him gave an encouraging shove to keep him moving. They continued to lead him down various corridors, the occasional open area, then down a set of stairs, then down a dimly lit steep ramp. Finally, when Stensland began to consider making a break for it, they stopped. 

It was another open area, but this one was different. Way different. First off, it was three times as large as the other spaces had been, with a domed ceiling and completely lit in blue. Various hooded figures stood in a circle, each seemingly with their own task. Some looked up upon Stensland’s approach before turning back to what they were doing.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. 

He was led to the side of the room, where a chain was attached to the wall. “Hey-!” Stensland put up a weak fight before getting another shock for his troubles. They locked the chain around his neck, then stepped away to join the circle. 

Stensland tugged on the chain; it was only a few feet long, but it didn’t allow for much mobility. He gave another tug, but to no avail. He shoved his fingers between the collar and his neck and shouted, “I’m not your fucking pet!”

The circle of hooded figures ignored his protests and erupted in a deep, but brief vocalization of “aahs” and “ohhs”. One of the tallest of the figures took a step forward and began to speak. Stensland could only compare it to a politician's speech… or maybe a cult leader. Charismatic and dominant. The leader went on, at one time gesturing to Stensland in an almost pleasant tone, like they were glad this earthling with cat ears could join them. They spoke for a few minutes longer and Stensland considered shouting something out just to be annoying, but he was also rather enraptured with whatever was going on.

Then it occurred to him: were they going to sacrifice him?

“Oh shit,” he whimpered. 

On the opposite side of the room, from the door Stensland had been brought in through, came four more hooded figures carrying a stretcher with what looked like a pale, unmoving person lying on their back. A dead body.

Stensland’s heart raced and he frantically tugged at the chain again. “Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” 

The corpse was brought into the center of the room and laid upon the altar. The newcomers joined the rest of the circle of figures and they began to vocalize again. 

Stensland placed his foot up on the wall, pulling as hard as he could, wishing for the first time in a long time that he was big and strong like Grady. He cursed and pulled, sweat dotting his brow. He released the chain with a huff and turned back to the alien cult or whatever they were.

Their harmonizing crescendoed and now each were reaching out and touching a green cloud that surrounded the body. The air buzzed, every hair on Stensland’s body stood on end, his ears perked up and his back tensed. He hated this. He wanted to go home, back to his shithole apartment, to Soft Solutions, to the shady bar where he and his middle-aged lady friends drank, hell he’d take the silence of the cell over this. 

The blue and green of the room ignited into a bright white light; Stensland had to shield his eyes. Just as quickly as it had come, the brightness diminished, and Stensland peeked out from behind his arm. His jaw dropped, the chill of cold winter air tickling his skin. 

There, above the circle of aliens and the corpse was an opening into another world. Stensland could see into it; he could see the icy blue and white slopes of the mountains, the neverending landscape, the black trees in the distance. 

Then, the hooded leader exclaimed a single word, something the rest of the figures echoed and chanted. Stensland could only watch as their chanting rose higher and higher and became almost screaming, each figure turned with their bodies arched towards the opening. 

“LOKLOKLOK!” they shouted into the portal. 

Then Stensland saw it. The orb. A mix of green, gold, black, and blue in a swirling ball of light and mist and solid and fluid… he couldn’t describe it, but he saw it. He saw it descend from the world of ice and lower down, down until it reached the corpse and his view was obstructed by the figures, who had all suddenly gone silent.

A sharp intake of breath echoed against the walls; a ragged, partial scream caught inside the inhale shot through Stensland’s body, rattling his very soul, as if he had been the one to make that sound. The sound of someone coming back to life.

The portal twisted then snapped shut, the cold world completely vanishing from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My reasons for giving Stensland the ears and tail (other than for the aesthetic) will become clearer in the coming chapters. I will be adding and/or changing tags as I go. Please do let me know if you're enjoying this!! Hoping to post chapters regularly, but no promises ;P Feedback will definitely help tho!! Thank you so much <3


	2. @marvel: Put Loki Back

Stensland had been rushed out almost immediately after that. He did not see the corpse, or what became of the ritual. They unchained him then used their cattle pods to lead him back to his cell.

And there he remained, receiving a meal sometime after. When he slept that night, he dreamed only of a land of ice.

A couple days passed as if nothing had happened. The only difference was that guard duty had doubled. At least, Stensland could only guess, but he was certain that he’d seen a hooded figure pass by his cell more often than they used to. 

He spent most of his time thinking about what had transpired in the large room. Of the portal and the breath of life, both of which would creep into his dreams every night. He couldn’t escape any of this. 

Homesickness hit him like a train one day. It had begun with another dream about the room and the portal, only in his dream instead of the icy landscape in the opening, he saw Seattle. The skyline, the space needle, the overcast skies… and then Ireland. He hadn’t lived in Dublin since he was a teenager, having moved to America for university at eighteen, but he would still visit his dad for holidays and the like. Dublin, Seattle,  _ home _ . He reached for the open portal, aching for home so much he wanted to throw up. Instead, he awoke from the dream with damp cheeks and watery eyes. 

Stensland sat up, wiping away the tears. The lights were still dim, but he could see that his food tray from the night before was gone. He laid back down, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. 

“I want to go home,” he mumbled to himself. His eyes began to slide slowly shut, sleep ready to take him back. 

That’s when he heard it. It wasn’t anything clear, but it was something. A sound  _ he _ did not make in his sound proof room. 

There it was again, only louder and longer. And it was coming from the wall on his right. Something muffled. Stensland bolted up, suddenly very awake.

He passed the room that would be there; the cell had been empty. What could possibly…?

“ _ Hey!”  _ came a voice.

Stensland moved so fast, he didn’t even bother to move the blanket out of the way; his legs tangled in the cloth and he landed face down onto the floor. 

“HEY!” he screamed back at the voice, kicking off the blanket and scrambling to the side of the cot that faced the wall. 

“Is there someone there? Can you hear me!?” asked the voice from the other side, and Stensland nearly cried.

“Yes! Yes, I can! Can you hear me!?”

“I can! Are you in a cell, too!?”

“Yeah! How are you doing this!?” His body buzzed with excitement. He was talking with somebody! Somebody who spoke english and was in the same position as he was! 

“I placed a spell on the wall to try and get through the soundproofing in the structure!”

A spell? Was this person some sort of wizard? Between being turned to dust, the cat ears, and the portals opening in ceilings, Stensland would believe anything these days. 

“Can you get out!? Can you help me, please!?” Stensland winced at the way his voice cracked on the plea. He hadn’t tried shouting this much since his first days in the cell, which had been a lot. 

There was a beat of silence. Then, “No.” 

Stensland deflated against the wall, not sure what he had expected. If the other prisoner could get out, they would have already done so. 

Then they spoke again. “We don’t have to shout anymore, though. I’m adjusting it. There,” he said, his tone more suited for indoors, “tell me your name.” 

“Stensland. What’s yours?”

There was a pause, as if the voice was debating about actually telling him.

“It’s Loki.”

The name rang a bell… a bell that Stensland couldn’t place. By the sound of it, Loki had an english accent. If he was also from Earth, then maybe-?

“Did they do anything to you? Like, give you cat ears or something?”

“...No…. Did they do something to  _ you _ ?”

“Ehm…” Stensland reflexively reached up to touch his ears. Best to change the subject. “How long have you been in that cell?”

“Don’t know. Few days at best. You?”

“Weeks, I think. Maybe a month, maybe two. I lost track a while ago. Do you know where we are?”

“I don’t recognize our captors, but their intentions are not good. Likely just keeping us alive to sell us on the black market.”

Stensland couldn’t believe either sets of his ears.

“SELL US!?”

“You don’t speak their language do you?”

“Of course I fucking don’t!”

“Before they put me in here, I overheard one talking about how I would fetch a pretty price,” said Loki, a disgusted sneer to his voice. “I don’t doubt that is why they’re keeping you here as well.”

Stensland shifted uncomfortably, eventually settling on sitting with his back to the wall. He wondered if Loki was mirroring the position on the opposite side. 

“I don’t want to be sold,” he grumbled. “I want to go home, go back to my job, my life.” Tears welled in his eyes. “And the worst part is, nobody’ll miss me. Sure, they’ll wonder where I am, but I was gone for a week before and nobody so much as called the cops.”

“Stensland, you’re panicking.” 

But Stensland couldn’t slow down his frantic train of thought; it had been building for weeks and now grew, inflamed by the horrific possibilities that pulsed around it.

“Oh  _ god _ , I’m going to be sold into slavery on some Tatooine-like planet. Who knwos what they’ll do to me! They’ll work me like a fucking pack mule! I’ll work and work until I’m all dried up and shriveled in the fucking sun-!”

“Stensland!”

Stensland hadn’t even realized that he had been raising his voice and talking faster in a frenzy. He wiped away the fresh tears on his face with the back of his hand. A sob escaped his throat.

“Stensland.”

“Yeah, sorry. I can’t help it. I’m totally freaking out. Oh god…”

“Calm down. I’m going to break out of here,” said Loki, “but I’m going to require your assistance. In return, I’ll take you with me. Deal?”

He sounded so  _ sure _ . So confident. As if breaking out of this high-security alien prison facility was cake to him. And yet, while he still had his doubts, Stens had no other options. Stay here and be sold into slavery, or take a chance and trust a stranger’s voice.

“Alright, deal. But you better be right about this.”

Loki's first few days back had been rough. One moment he was in Niflheim, Hela’s grip around his already crushed throat, the next he felt himself being dragged away. Then life. His first breath of air reverberated through his entire being as he felt bones and tissue mend in his neck, blood rushed through his veins, and above him a portal from whence he had come close upon his return.

There had been commotion all around him. Hooded figures shouting, cuffs being secured around his wrists and ankles, and a glance of bright red hair being led out of the room. 

“Where am I!?” he gasped. “Where’s Hela? Who are you?”

It didn’t properly sink in that he was truly alive until they dumped him in a brightly lit cell. 

One hooded figure mentioned something about a price, another muttered about how incredible it was that their ritual succeeded. Not a single figure spoke directly to him until the moment they locked the cell and told him that the clear wall would shock him if he tried breaking through it.

Body and mind aching, heavy and exhausted, Loki had immediately passed out.

When Loki eventually awoke, he knew he had to get out of here. He didn’t recognize the species of the hooded figures (though, he had not been able to get a look at their faces since their hoods drooped down low to their necks) and thus had no idea what to expect from them. They couldn’t have brought him back just to  _ sell him _ could they? Perhaps someone wanted him back so they could kill him themself. He could see that being a possibility, although that just made the identity of that someone even more vague. Too many enemies to single one out, and from where he stood, his betrayal to Thanos was a score that was already settled. 

There was no time to dwell on where Thanos was, if he knew Loki was here, or if he had already snapped his fingers. Loki knew handing over the tesseract would only lead to that inevitability, but he couldn’t think about that or Thor or Asgard. He had to focus on escaping.

With no proper concept of time in the cell, Loki paid close attention to guard duties and meal times, when the lights above would dim, the way sound seemed contained within the room, and which places in his cell transmitted a sharp shock when touched. 

On what he guessed was his third day, Loki had closed his eyes and pressed his hands against the walls, reaching out with his magic. He could feel the cold of the metal walls, the material used to insulate sound and keep Loki isolated from the rest of the facility. He spent the whole day concentrating, searching for a weak spot or a kink in the perfectly crafted prison. Perhaps there was someone in the cells next to his that he could team up with to use in an escape. The passing guards seemed unbothered by his actions, hardly sparing a glance into his cell when Loki was clearly up to something. Stupidity or hubris? Unsure which. Either way, Loki tucked that observation away for later.

Then, what he had guessed was late into the night, he finally made a breakthrough in the form of the soft sniffling from the cell next door.

Loki spent the following several days coming up with an airtight plan that he kept to himself. Every morning Stensland would wake up and ask if he had come up with anything yet. Every morning Loki more irritably told him that he’d let him know when the escape plan was ready to be discussed.

On the second night Stensland awoke with a start. He frantically glanced around his dim cell, searching the space for what could have woke him. At last he located the source… He pressed his ear to the wall.

On the other side he could hear Loki shifting around and talking to himself. An occasional incomprehensible shout. Perhaps it was because Stens was still half asleep, but he gradually realized that Loki was having a nightmare.

“Loki,” he whispered, face pressed to the wall. He spoke louder. “Loki, wake up. You’re dreaming. _ Loki _ .” 

There was a strangled yelp and the shifting ceased, replaced only by heavy breathing. “Loki?”

“What is it?” Loki spat, trying to hide how winded he sounded.

“You okay?”

Silence followed the question for a minute. Then finally, “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

Stensland stared tiredly at the side of his cell that overlooked the narrow pathway. Loki had given him a job to do: pay attention to guard duty today, including noting anything distinct about their hooded guards and if there was, then to note how many different guards passed by their cells over the course of a day. 

Turns out that when one pays attention, they would notice the finer details that differentiated the hooded figures from one another. Height, build, even the faint difference in color of their robes, how quickly they moved. Stensland counted four different guards per day, everyday. 

It had been nearly a week since Stensland had gotten his new prison mate and still he had no idea who he was, where he was from, or what he looked like. Loki would actively dodge personal questions and would answer vaguely, if at all. 

“Loki, where are you from?”

“Somewhere you’ve never been.”

“Loki, where did you grow up? London?”

“Far away.”

“Loki, who’re your parents?”

“I’m a son of Odin and Frigga.” As if those names meant something important. Maybe they did, but Stens couldn’t think what.

“Loki, what color is your hair… Do you  _ have _ hair?”

“You’ll find out once you stop asking me such foolish questions and allow me to focus on getting us out.”

“Loki, are you human?”

“Are you?”

“Of course I am. I told you already-”

“But you said you have cat ears.”

“I was experimented on! I’m human except for the ears and the tail!”

“You have a tail, too?” The amusement in Loki’s voice bothered Stensland more than it should have.

The mortal with cat ears in the cell next door was a damned nuisance. He did as Loki asked, but he never seemed to shut up. Whenever he could, he would chat to Loki about Earth, his job, something called  _ Dawson’s Creek.. _ . If it popped into Stensland’s head, he would relay it to Loki. More than once Loki had closed off the area in the wall that allowed them to communicate. If Stensland figured out the reason why Loki wasn’t responding, he never said anything.

“Do you want to know what I look like?” he asked one day.

“I’m sure I will find out-”

“I have red hair. It matches the ears and tail. I think they did that on purpose.”

Loki had rolled his eyes from where he was crouched over by the transparent wall and said nothing.

Stensland asked, “Do you miss your home?”

Loki paused, stray flickering images of Asgard up in flames crossing his mind. 

“Yes.”

There must have been something in Loki’s tone; for once, Stensland didn’t push any further questions on the matter.

Loki couldn’t sleep that night. He should. He hadn’t slept in what he guessed was nearly two days. Too focused on trying to find a way out. Also, it helped that Stensland kept regular sleeping hours. What Loki suspected was night was the perfect time to reach out with his magic and try to learn the layout of the ship without interruption.

Whatever their captors built their ship out of, it wasn’t completely magic-proof. The spell Loki had been using took a great deal of concentration and he figured that given enough time he could work out a way to use it to open the cell doors. 

Loki’s eyelids drooped before a daunting thought he had been ignoring wormed its way to the forefront of his thoughts: He had no plan for once they got away. He supposed returning to Earth was the logical choice; he had given his word to Stensland, and if the ridiculous mortal managed to survive their escape, then it was only fair. 

Not that Loki generally cared about fairness. 

But Thor (if he was still alive) was also on Earth. Loki frowned and sat close to the wall.

“Stensland, are you awake?”

Nothing. Loki repeated himself, louder this time. He heard a muffled groan as Stensland likely stirred awake. Loki knew this could probably wait until ‘morning,’ but a sense of urgency of the question twisted his gut and he knew he could not continue planning until he was certain.

“W-What is it?” Stensland said, stifling a yawn.

“Before I came back… Did half the universe vanish?”

There was a long pause from the other side that grew so long Loki thought perhaps Stensland had fallen back asleep. 

Finally, Stensland spoke, “Did they not have that where you come from?”

Loki’s blood ran cold at the implication. They  _ had it _ on Earth, which meant Thanos had completed his mission. Half the universe was gone forever. Half of an already fractured Asgard. Who survived? Did Thor...?

“No, we did not  _ have it  _ where I came from, because I, along with every soul in Niflheim, were already dead. Our captors brought me back to the land of the living. At least, it seems to be the land of the living. Being trapped in this cell day after day is starting to make me wonder if we’re simply in another hel.”

There was silence on the other side again. 

Then, softly, “Well, the Avengers brought everybody back, too. Everybody who turned to dust. We call it the blip now. Because we blipped out of existence then blipped back in. I… I blipped. Lost five years of my life. My dad thought I was gone forever, though I think he was the only one who cared that I wasn’t around anymore.”

Something deep and green briefly burned in Loki’s chest. How foolish… Five years since the old man… Loki knew he would never see him again. In this new life or the next. The certainty of it did not make it any easier. He lay down and turned so his back faced the wall.

“Thank you, Stensland. Go back to sleep.” 

On the other other side of the wall, Stensland was sitting upright. 

That ritual was the hooded figures bringing Loki back from the dead. Huh. Which meant the cold, icy mountains he had seen in the portal were part of some sort of afterlife. Life after death really existed. Who knew? Not Stensland.

When he blipped, there was nothing waiting on the other side. If there was another side. Most speculated they hadn’t died at all, just disappeared from existence. There was no death, just dust. And when everybody came back, thought and life resumed. 

Loki had died though. Just before the blip, it seemed. Stensland had vanished from existence for five years. He couldn’t begin to imagine what actually being dead for that amount of time was like. Perhaps that was why Loki could be so grumpy. Stens realized he preferred the amusement in Loki’s voice, even when it was at his own expense. He wondered what that tone was like when accompanied with a smile.

Another few days came and went and eventually another night crept up on them. 

They had a plan, or at least, part of a plan. Loki was actually rather brilliant, though he still hadn’t fully explained the entirety of this master plan yet. But brilliant nonetheless. With a velvet baritone. And a biting sense of wit.

Stensland had often wondered what he looked like. He pictured a classic Hollywood moviestar look. Maybe Errol Flynn. And yet, it still didn’t quite match Loki. Stens had a feeling he must be at least good looking. He certainly had one of those voices you could listen to for hours. He’d make a good radio DJ.

Such thoughts bled into his mind as he slept. That night he dreamt of Loki’s voice, whispering filthy things into his ear. In the spot on the wall where they spoke, a circular hole opened. Dream Stensland knew that he should perhaps look through it, see Loki’s face for himself. Instead that sweet baritone instructed him to do something else. And Stensland did. With only the confidence that a dream could give, Stensland opened the front of his pants and placed his dick in the hole in the wall. Immediately his cock was greeted by a hot, expert mouth. 

Dream Stensland grasped at the flat wall, thrusting into the hole and the mouth on the other side until… Until…

Until Stensland woke once again in the middle of the night, only this time with a raging hard-on. Heat was pooled in both his dick and in his cheeks. Really? A wet dream about a guy he’s never seen? He glanced over at the wall where the hole had been in his dream, though of course, now completely solid. 

He frowned. Thinking about men wasn’t new for Stensland, but it was something that he never indulged himself with either. Attraction was there, and Stensland did consider himself bisexual, but dating women was always easier and came with less societal shame. 

He thought of the warmth of that mouth in his dream. 

Fuck it. Stensland quickly fumbled for the front of his pants, managing to free his cock. He sighed as he wrapped his hand around it. 

Stensland didn’t like masturbating here. The first few days he hadn’t dared in case there were cameras installed somewhere. But as the time had dragged on, he cared less and would whip it out whenever he felt like it. Though, he did usually wait for nighttime so there would be fewer guards to look in on him. 

Stensland quickened his movements, the rhythmic sound of skin against skin echoing in the mostly empty cell. He bit his lip to keep from making any sound. In the past when jacking it in his cell, he would make as much noise as he wanted. After all, the room was soundproof. But now, with Loki just on the other side of the wall… Well, it had been over a week since Stensland last touched himself specifically because of that.

A moan escaped from the back of his throat. He swallowed it down and thought of that mouth… 

“Stensland, are you awake?”

“Aaugh-!” At the mere sound of his name on that voice, Stensland came into his hand with a yelp. 

There was a beat of silence. Stensland’s face was red hot.  _ God, please don’t… Don’t what? Know that I was jacking it to the thought of your voice and mouth? Fuck. Gobacktosleepgobacktosleep… _

“Just… a dream. A weird dream that woke me,” he managed to lie, his voice an octave higher than normal. “Go back to bed.”

“Alright…” Suspicion laced Loki’s voice, but he didn’t push it any further.

Satisfied Loki had gone back to sleep, Stensland breathed a sigh of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! They met!! One of the many reasons why I started writing this was just so I can write another Bringing Loki Back From the Dead fic because it's been over two years and I'm still in denial LOL


	3. hello i am gay *rapid headbang*

Four guards passed by the cells at least twice a day each. The first two would do their rounds during the sleeping hours, while the other two passed when Loki and Stensland were awake. Loki would whisper into the spot on the wall ten minutes after a guard would go by, allowing plenty of time to talk. 

Two and a half weeks since Loki’s arrival. Two and a half weeks since Stensland regained hope that he wouldn’t die in this cell. 

The lights dimmed as Stensland laid down on the cot and pulled the blanket to his chin. He lay with his head closest to Loki’s cell and tried to stop the jitters than seem to be plaguing his limbs. He closed his eyes, knowing that he couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. He thought of what was waiting for him at home. Soft Solutions, Lyle and Linda, his ratty couch, his chest full of _Dawson’s Creek_ tapes, his bong, his disgusting bathroom, his favorite sweaters that were likely still strewn about his bedroom floor… _Daddy will be home soon_ , he thought with affection towards all the good and gross in his life.

About an hour after lying down, he heard a soft knock on the wall. The first guard of the night had passed. They had at least two hours. If everything went according to plan, they wouldn’t need it.

Stensland sat up, kicking the blanket off, and knocked back thrice.

“Are you ready?” Loki whispered. Stens nodded at first, then remembered he couldn’t see him.

“Yeah.”

“Alright. In five, four, three, two, one…” A few seconds past. Then, “I’m in...” 

Stensland released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He turned his attention to the clear wall of his cell and waited. He wouldn’t hear from Loki for a few minutes, he knew. The spell on their shared wall had been dropped so Loki could focus all of his attention on the cell doors. Stens sat on the edge of his cot, his knee bouncing uncontrollably. 

He waited. And waited.

Worrisome thoughts began to emerge. What if Loki had been lying? What if he was planning to leave him behind the whole time? It was only just the other day that Loki had finally put the pieces together for him.

“I’m the god of mischief,” he had told Stens. 

Stensland had a very narrow notion of the Norse gods (he was more into the Greek pantheon in school, himself), but the discovery that Thor, Norse god of thunder was real, had brought other viking deities names to the forefront of the public mind. Including Loki, god of mischief and allegedly behind the battle of New York a few years back. 

“Was that you?” Stensland had asked. 

“Of course it was me. What other Lokis do you know?”

“You tried to take over the world.” Stensland had sat there on his cot, dumbfounded. The man who had become his only friend in this hellhole was an intergalactic war criminal, responsible for the deaths of many. No one that Stensland knew personally, but that didn’t make talking to Loki any less intimidating after that. 

Since that discovery had been made, it was all he could think about. Loki, a trickster god. Deadly. _Selfish_ . Who the hell was Stensland to a god? _An alien_ , he would correct himself. Giorgio A. Tsoukalos must have creamed himself when he heard the news. 

Stensland nervously played with the end of his tail, smoothing down the fur and running his fingers through it. It was an odd habit he had grown into, but somehow petting himself calmed him. 

He waited in the dead silence of the cell. Waited to finally see the face of the man he’d had wet dreams of, his only friend, his cellmate, his should-be enemy. Was he moviestar gorgeous like Thor? Was he perhaps ugly like the monstrous villain he was? Somewhere in-between?

He waited. 

Had he already left him behind?

Just then, at last, a face came into view. The first real face Stensland had seen besides his own in weeks. His breath caught in his throat. 

The man on the other side of the cell was half naked with only a gray bed sheet torn into a makeshift skirt around his waist to cover his dignity. It looked very much like Stensland’s bedsheet. Their captors likely hadn’t given Loki any clothes, so he had to improvise with his own bed covers. Loki. Under the sheet shot out two long pale legs. Above the waist was a slim, but built torso. At the bottom of his sternum was a large diamond-shaped scar. The rest of him appeared unmaimed. He looked human enough, though Stensland knew he was anything but. Then there was Loki’s face. 

Fucking shit.

Loki was _fucking gorgeous_ with an angular nose, broad forehead, sharp cheekbones, and long black hair that curled at his shoulders. His blue-green eyes stared back at him, seemingly in wonder as he took in Stensland’s appearance for the first time too. 

Stensland could hear a choir as he gazed upon Loki, god of mischief. The torn bed sheet no longer registered as a bed sheet but rather a heavenly cloth strategically put there by an Italian Renaissance painter so he could avoid painting godly genitals. 

He stared, his jaw on the floor. 

“We have to move.” 

_Fuck_ , now that velvet voice was attached to that beautiful body! Stensland was suddenly very aware of the way his half-hard cock sat in his pants. 

“Stensland! Are you coming or not?”

Oh, Stensland was sure he’d come if Loki asked him. 

Loki frowned and crossed over the cell’s threshold, storming right up to where Stensland sat. “Do you _want_ to stay here?”

Stensland shook his head, his mind returning to the present. Loki was bent over slightly, getting in his face. He was so close…

“Let’s go, then.”

Stensland nodded and stood. 

“Right. We’re escaping,” he reminded himself, following Loki out of the cell. 

The hallway was clear. Loki looked to the left, then the right. During their planning stages, he had told Stensland that the cells blocked out most things, including physical magic; however, Loki had been able to create an invisible duplicate of himself within his cell and send it out. The duplicate couldn’t interact with anything, but he could look around without being noticed. They knew where they were going. 

They went to the right, the opposite way Stens had been led for that weird cult ritual. 

Stensland stayed close to Loki as they made their way down the corridor. Loki kept his hand up slightly, ready to fight if needed. Stensland was not a fighter. Last fight he had gotten into had resulted in a black eye in an alleyway. 

The cells on their left were all empty. He shortened the space between himself and Loki, nearly touching his smooth, pasty frame. They walked on and Stensland tried not to ogle the way Loki’s muscles moved under the skin, or of the scar at the center of Loki’s back and how it matched the one on his chest. 

Loki stopped suddenly at one point, Stensland colliding into his back; Loki seemed not to notice, nor did his strong stance waver. It had almost felt like walking into a wall. Stensland’s face brushed against Loki’s shoulder and Stens had to suppress a touch-starved shudder. 

They had reached the end of the corridor. Like the other end, this side opened up into a larger room with various connected hallways. Two hooded figures stood near the center, talking to each other; neither had noticed their escaped prisoners yet.

Loki turned to Stensland and placed a finger to his lips, then mouthed ‘Stay here.’ Stens nodded. Loki slowly entered the open room, inching closer and closer until… One hooded figure noticed him and shouted something akin to “Hey!” 

Loki pounced, jumping onto the figure and quickly wrapping his arms around its head. With a single jerk, there was a loud _crack_ and the figure slumped under him. The other figure yelled out and made a run for one of the hallways. Leaving the dead captor on the floor, Loki rose to his feet and made a beeline for the other one. Another crack echoed in the open room and the second figure slumped to the floor, lifeless. 

Something uncomfortable churned in Stensland’s stomach as he stared down at the bodies. There was a weight on his shoulder and he looked up to find Loki looking back at him.

“They captured us and held us prisoner. They were going to sell us as slaves.”

“I know. I just… I don’t like being an accomplice to killing. Can you maybe kill less as we go forward?”

Irritation crossed Loki’s features.

“It’ll make our escape more difficult.”

“Still, it would make me feel better,” said Stensland with a small smile. Loki studied his face, then rolled his eyes. 

“Just do your part,” he sneered, then mumbled something under his breath as he turned away that sounded very much like, “Stupid mortal.” He searched the bodies for anything important. Finding nothing, Loki stood and surveyed his options.

“So which way?” Stensland asked. 

Loki said nothing, but turned to the corridor on the far left and started walking. Stensland quickly hurried after him, avoiding the bodies on the floor as he scurried. “You know,” he said, his long legs allowing him to catch up with Loki’s own wide strides, “You never actually explained ‘my part’ in this plan of yours. I mean, you said I’d have to create a distraction when we got to the hangar, but you never quite explained _how_.”

“You’ll know when we get there.”

Stensland frowned. He wanted to trust Loki, but there was too much he had left out of the plan. He had never said anything about killing any of their captors. Nor had he given him details on which way they were meant to go. The most thorough explanation Loki had given him was how he was going to disable their cell security, but now that piece of their plan was done with. It wasn’t until the bodies had started dropping that Stensland realized how _little_ he knew the plan. 

They turned this corner and that corner. Down another corridor they went. They knew they wouldn’t be running into too many of their captors at this time of night, which made it the perfect getaway.

“How do I know you’re not going to leave me behind?” Stensland finally asked.

“You do your part and I won’t. Now please be quiet for the next few minutes, we’re getting close.” 

They reached the end of the corridor and came to a fork in the path. Loki didn’t hesitate to go down the right-hand hall. They were about halfway down the corridor when-

A loud ringing echoed through the hallways, repetitive and obnoxious. Stensland covered his cat ears and winced.

“What the fuck-?”

“It’s the alarm system,” Loki said over the noise. “They know we got out! Come on!” His hand wrapped around Stensland’s wrist and he _pulled_ as he broke off into a sprint. Stensland emitted a yelp, but managed to find his feet under him to keep up.

Over the blaring alarm, a calm alien voice spoke, likely explaining the situation to the inhabitants. 

They reached the end of the corridor and Loki halted in his tracks. They had arrived at another open area that forked into multiple directions, most of which were quickly flooding with hooded figures. Loki cursed under his breath and made a run for the only path without them, tugging Stensland along behind him. 

“Are we going the right way!?” Stens shouted. 

“Trust me!” Loki replied, as if that was the easiest thing in the world. “I know where I’m going.”

Down another path, and another, and another - the third of which had two hooded figures making their way towards them. Loki finally let go of Stensland’s wrist to throw his body at them, catching one of the figure’s heads between his knees and flipping them so they landed on their front. The other figure ignored Loki and came straight for Stensland.

“Uh, Loki! Loki please help!” Stens yelped, holding his fists up. The hooded figure said something then grabbed Stensland’s fist and squeezed. 

Stensland let out a pained shout and tried to wriggle his hand free. The grip on him tightened and he was sure the hooded figure was going to break his fist. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Loki wrestling with the other figure, who seemed more of a match than the other two figures Loki had killed. 

Oh fuck. They were going to lose. Stensland’s hand was going to be broken and then he would be thrown back in the cell again. Then sold like a lump of meat. Who knows what awaited him afterward? Death? Rape? Torture? A lifetime of the latter two, followed by an undignified former? 

Stensland was 29 years old. His goals in life involved falling in love with someone who loved him back, someone he could pass the bong to and watch shows meant for teenage girls without feeling judged. He wanted to live somewhere nicer than his shitty apartment. He wanted to live comfortably and be _happy_. 

_I don’t want to die here._

Four thick, slimey tendrils shot out from his mouth and wrapped around the shocked hooded figure. The grip on Stensland’s hand was gone as he watched the figure get slammed against the floor and the ceiling, over and over again. The tentacles only released the figure when they stopped moving, before they, too, retreated back into Stensland’s mouth and vanished. 

What.

Stensland blinked, the taste of frost and what could only be described as gelatin remained on his tongue. The hooded figure on the floor seemed to be breathing slightly, but made no move to get up, their robes completely covered in thick, goopy saliva. When Stensland looked up again, he noticed Loki had taken down his own hooded figure and was now staring at him with a smirk on his face. 

He approached Stens and nodded.

“ _That_ is your part,” he said. “Come on, we’re close to the hangar and I would rather not run into any more of these bastards.”

Stensland numbly nodded and followed after him.


	4. Road work ahead? YEAH I SURE HOPE IT DOES

“You knew I could do that. How did you know?” Stensland asked, the shock seeming to finally wear off. 

They stood just outside of the hangar, pressed firmly against the wall. Loki was peering inside, counting how many they were up against and eyeing all the awaiting crafts. Stensland was whispering into Loki’s hair. “What the  _ fuck  _ is going on? How did I-?”

“I didn’t know at first. But the moment I saw those ears, I put the pieces together. Now  _ shush _ ,” Loki said. “We have to steal one of the ships in there, and I’m going to need you to do the part you agreed to.”

“The distraction?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me, Loki, does this distraction involve giant tentacles coming out of my mouth?” Stensland sneered. 

“Now it does.”

“What do you mean ‘now’!?”

“Before I was sure, I figured you being a distraction would be good enough for me to sneak onboard a craft and get away.”

Stensland’s jaw dropped.

“So you  _ were _ going to leave me behind!”

“Shh!” Loki continued to observe the hangar while Stensland silently fumed beside him. 

The hangar wasn’t as heavily guarded as he had suspected, though all five of the guards in there looked to be on alert. They were dressed just as any other of the hooded figures, though these ones seemed taller. They carried no weapons, but kept their arms folded into their sleeves. 

Getting past them might be easy, but there was another problem. It probably wouldn’t be long until their captors realized what direction they had gone. Armed troops were probably on their way right now. 

Loki frowned and glanced down to see a long, orange-furred tail bumping against his thighs and backside. Stensland was nibbling on his lower lip, his brow furrowed. 

“Would you please stop that?” said Loki.

Stensland’s scowl deepened.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I can’t help it if my cat tail keeps moving because I’m anxious because the man I thought I could trust turns out to be a liar,” he growled. It wasn’t very intimidating.

“I’m called the god of lies on your planet. Why the hell would you trust me?” Loki rolled his eyes and peered into the hangar. Stensland mumbled something about “Fucking asshole aliens,” but Loki tuned him out. 

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” Loki said, cutting off whatever Stensland was grumbling to himself. “You go in first, lead them to the far left corner. Meanwhile, I’m going to make a run for the ship on the right. Attack them if you need to. I’ll keep the door open so as I’m hovering in the air, you jump for the platform. Got it?”

Stensland was frowning again with his eyebrows drawn together.

“How do I know you won’t leave me behind? You said it yourself, I shouldn’t trust you.”

“Then I suppose that’s a chance you’ll have to take. I doubt you’ll get another one.” 

Stensland’s eyes searched Loki’s face, as if hoping to find some trace of sincerity, or hope that he was being messed with. He opened his mouth to say something, when the alarm once again began to blare, the lights flashing from normal to red and back again. Overhead they could hear the automatic voice that accompanied the alarm.

“ATTENTION. ATTENTION. PRISONER ESCAPE. LOCKDOWN WILL COMMENCE IN ONE MINUTE.”

“What’s that mean?” Stensland asked, unable to understand the alien language. 

“It means it’s time,” said Loki, putting an arm around Stensland’s shoulders and pushing him in front. Stensland swallowed thickly.

“Okay, Sten, you can do this,” he muttered to himself, peering into the hangar. “Oh jesus.”

“ _ Go _ .” Loki pressed firmly against the spot between Stensland’s shoulder blades, shoving him forward into the hangar. Stensland cursed and froze as all five hooded figures turned to him. “Go!”

Stensland took off like a shot, making a zigzag for one of the ships on the far left. The figures all followed after. Loki smirked and bolted across the way towards the gray shuttle on the right. 

Arriving at the craft, he fiddled with the panel beside where he guessed the door was. 

“ACCESS DENIED,” chirped the ship.

Loki bared his teeth, stealing a glance over at Stensland. He paused, the sight from across the way almost comical.

Stensland was running in a wide circle, the hooded figures all following him a few feet away on the exact same path. He was managing to keep himself out of reach and yet he was only running in the same pattern. How stupid were their captors?

Loki shook his head and returned to his work on the panel. 

Across the way, a figure wisened up and cut across the circle Stensland had been running in. Stensland yelped and sprinted away, breaking his pattern. His chest heaved and his legs were already beginning to fail him. Being stuck in a small cell for weeks certainly hadn’t helped how out of shape he was. Maybe he should have done push-ups or laps around the rim, like some big muscled guy in a prison film.

Something touched his tail. Brief, but he had felt it. He spared a glance behind him and shouted, “Loki! Fuck! Help!” Behind him a hooded figure was closing in, grasping for Stensland’s tail; long, thin fingers continuously made fists in the air, reaching and missing, reaching and missing.

A smile curled around Loki’s face as a spark flashed from the opened panel and the little screen turned green. 

“ACCESS GRANTED”

The door to the shuttle lowered and he leapt up the ramp into the ship. The inside was a darker gray and didn’t keep much room. There wasn’t anywhere to sit save for the two chairs at the front; he rushed over to them.

Loki hadn’t driven many ships like this, but he knew enough to start an engine and go from there; he bent over the console, pressing levers and pushing buttons, looking for some way to get her ready for flight. At last, the engine hummed to life under him. He flipped an orange switch and the shuttle shook as it retracted its landing feet. 

Finally he allowed himself to sit, the shuttle slowly rising from the floor. He held onto the console as the craft moved to the left, just in time to see through the front window as Stensland collapsed on the floor, exhausted from the chase, and then… Loki’s eyes widened as the slimy tentacles once again emerged from Stensland’s mouth. Each one grabbed a nearby figure. One squeezed the figure so tightly, one would think their spine would snap. Two were slammed into the polished floor, then the wall, then back to the floor again. The fourth was thrown into the fifth figure, knocking them both back. 

Loki was glad there was a thick window between himself and those flerkin limbs. He eyed Stensland’s shocked face for a moment. A strange one, that mortal. A curiosity. Half a dozen questions about him swirled in Loki’s mind. But he didn’t have time to dwell on them. He was certain of one thing though.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted several hooded figures filing in from the hangar door. 

Loki steered the ship closer to Stensland, then flipped on the outside microphone.

“Stensland!” he said. “Time to go!”

The tentacles released whatever figures they had been holding, then retreated back into Stensland’s mouth. Stensland looked up at the shuttle before him, mouth slightly ajar. 

“Hurry! Or I’ll leave without you!”

Stensland nodded, scrambling to his feet. He ran over to where the still-open ramp waited for him. He jumped, just catching the bottom with his arms. Loki steered higher as figures moved in closer. 

“Get in!” he shouted behind himself. 

“Just a sec!” Stensland yelped, kicking at air as he struggled to push himself up. “I was never good at the monkey bars!” 

“Hurry up! I can’t keep us like this forever!”

Stensland grit his teeth and pushed with all the strength his upper body could give. His body moved up and he managed to grab on to an indent in the floor. He pulled and finally his waist was above the edge; he swung a leg over the side and rolled.

“I’m in! I’m in!” he shouted. “Close the fucking door!”

Loki flipped a switch and the door to the shuttle gradually closed. Stensland wiggled further into the shuttle, so as not to get his tail caught. Reaching the middle, he collapsed on his back. 

The shuttle rumbled under him, the solid floor warm from the engine. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for it to be over. 

There was a sudden lurch, launching Stensland into the back wall face-first. He let out a cry of pain and reached up to touch his nose. Pulling back he found his fingers covered in blood.

“L-Loki?” 

The shuttle rumbled again as Stensland wobbled to his feet. He cursed under his breath and stumbled to the cockpit. Through the wide window he could see an endless sea of stars. He really was in space! 

The shuttle shook again.

“Sit down,” Loki instructed. “This is going to get rough.”

“Right, because this hasn’t been rough enough already.” Stensland did as he was told, practically falling into the co-pilot’s chair. He strapped himself in and held firmly onto the arm rests. 

“Are they firing at us?” he asked.

“You watch too much science fiction. They’re trying to use a gravity beam to keep us from moving too far from their ship,” Loki explained. 

“A tractor beam,” Stens mumbled. 

“I think I can break through it. Hold on.” 

The shuttle shook violently, the craft swaying from side to side, then, like a slingshot they jolted forward. Loki nearly flew from his seat, his own strength the only thing keeping him planted. “We’re out,” he said through gritted teeth. He touched something on the console, his index finger sliding over a pad. 

Straight ahead of them, something shifted. Stensland blinked. Was he imagining things? Did he just get a concussion just then? In the middle of the stars a hexagon shape opened up to them. Through it, Stens could see a pink hue. Loki flew the ship directly towards it, not slowing down.

“Loki?”

“Trust me,” Loki replied with a smirk before, pushing the silver lever forward all the way. Into the opening of space they flew, the door closing behind him.

They traveled through three more hexagon-shaped openings before Loki seemed satisfied and finally allowed them to stop. He sat back in his seat and let out a heavy breath. 

Stensland was still clinging to his chair, staring out the window into open space.

“There, see? Told you I’d get us out of there,” said Loki, sounding far too smug. Stensland slowly turned his head to him.

“Yeah.”

Loki pressed a couple buttons, then stood to get an eyeful of their ship. Whether or not he was content with what they stole, it didn’t show on his face. 

“How’s your head?” he asked, walking away from the cockpit to explore the tiny space. 

“Umm, okay. I think.” Stensland’s nose had stopped bleeding, at least. He managed to unbuckle himself with shaky hands and followed Loki over to the left hand side of the ship and watched him gently knock his fist on a tall, smooth panel. The panel opened to reveal a set of cubbies. 

Loki spared him a glance over his shoulder.

“How long have you been wearing those?” he asked.

“Uh...” Stensland looked down at his attire. He was still wearing what he had worn the night he had been abducted. That is to say: a pair of worn gray jeans, sneakers, his favorite striped sweater, and his brown and blue vest with the fuzzy collar. A typical-Stensland get-up, one could say. A get-up that hadn’t been washed in weeks. It probably didn’t help that the vest still vaguely smelled of the bar down the street from his apartment. “Since they took me.”

Loki wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

Stensland frowned. “Hey, it’s not like they offered a laundromat.”

Suddenly a lump of cloth flew into his face; his arms reached up to catch it. He looked down at it.

“Put those on,” said Loki. “Don’t stink up my ship. You can put your dirty clothes in this top shelf and collect them when you leave.”

The clothing Stens had been given was an iguana green jumpsuit, with pockets on every possible limb. It was like a green cargo pants onesie.  _ Ew. _

_ Wait. _

“When I leave?” Stensland asked, looking up. 

Loki had removed another jumpsuit from the cubbies and was carrying it over to the pilot’s chair. He set the clothing down on the seat.

“Well, you’re  _ not  _ coming with me,” he sneered. “I’ll drop you off on Earth, then you and I will never see each other again. Sound fair enough?”

Stensland opened his mouth to reply, then promptly closed it. Any words he would have strung together were lost to the void as the sheet around Loki’s waist dropped to the floor. 

Loki kicked the cloth to the side and unfolded the ugly jumpsuit, holding it out with distaste.

Stensland didn’t mean to stare, but he was staring. And blinking, as if that could stop the staring; it was the only sign his brain was still working at all.

Loki seemed to have no problem being naked in front of others. There was no point of shyness, no hesitation, no indication that he even cared he was being ogled. And Stensland was  _ clearly _ ogling. His green eyes rounded over the cheek of Loki’s perfect ass that he could see, then jumped to the front where he could see the profile of Loki’s _ well-endowed _ junk. And oh fuck, Stensland was still staring.  _ Shit shit shit… _

And then it was gone, covered up as Loki slipped into the jumpsuit one leg at a time. 

“See something you like?”

Synapses fired and Stensland was functioning again. Loki was looking directly at him, a hint of a smirk on his lips. 

“What?” Stens muttered, his face burning like the sun. “I… uh…” He whirled around so his face, and his very obvious boner, were out of sight.  _ Fuck, why am I so weak?  _ He thought, his hands clenching the jumpsuit in his hands. “Nothing, uh… Earth. Sounds good. Good, good…”

Stensland kept his back to Loki as he removed his own clothes and threw them into a pile on the floor. It was a race against time between removing his boxers and getting the fucking jumpsuit on. He fumbled to tear a hole the fabric for his tail, and was relieved the cloth was thin enough to make a decently sized one with his hands alone. He didn’t dare check to see if Loki was returning the ogling in kind; even if he was, Stens didn’t want him to see his pasty ass, not when Loki was as hot as he was in comparison. It just wouldn’t be fair.

The jumpsuit given to Stensland was the proper height, but it was also baggy in the arms and torso, like it was made for someone who was shredded. Like Arnold Schwarznegger. Or Grady. Stensland’s cheeks grew hot once again, wondering if Loki gave him this one on purpose to make fun of how skinny he was. 

With his shoes back on, Stens gathered up his old clothes into a ball and shoved them into the top empty cubby. He glanced into the other cubbies and found that there were no more jumpsuits that he could perhaps switch with. Okay, maybe Loki just gave him what was there. Stensland shrugged and pulled his vest back on. It didn’t smell as bad as the rest of his clothes and it made him feel a bit more secure wearing something familiar. 

Relieved his erection had subsided, Stensland returned to the co-pilot’s chair and plopped down.

“So, Captain, how long until we reach Earth?” He leaned back and propped his feet up on the console. Loki scowled and shoved his ankles off. 

“Few hours. I’m still trying to figure out where we are exactly,” he said.

“Wait, are we lost… in space!?” Stensland’s eyes widened and he sat up. Panic stirred in his chest.

Loki sighed impatiently, then slowly turned to him.

“No. I said-”

“You said you don’t know where we are!”

“I said I’m figuring it out. The ship is running a diagnostic; when it’s finished, we’ll know.” 

“What if the ship says we’re lost?”

“It won’t.”

“How are you so sure? Have you ever flown a ship like this?”

“Of course not.”

“Then how do you know!?” The panic in Stensland’s chest had arrived at his tongue. “What if we die out here!?”

“We’re not going to die out here. At least  _ I’m _ not. At this rate, _ your  _ chances aren’t looking well,” Loki seethed. 

“What the hell does- Oh.” Stensland could see the irritation and anger brewing behind Loki’s eyes. Right. Alien god. Best not to piss off. Except… “I have tentacles in my mouth.”

“Your point?”

“You saw what I did to those guys. I can defend myself pretty well, I think.” Stensland raised his chin and straightened his spine. Unimpressed, Loki rolled his eyes.

“ _ Please _ . You don’t even know how those work. Besides, they’re not in your mouth.”

“What? Of course they’re in my mouth!”

“You have no idea what they did to you,” Loki replied with a shake of his head. 

Near the top of the console, a light flashed yellow and made a  _ beep _ . Loki pressed the button next to the light and the front window came to life as a giant screen. On the screen was a large grid with a spatter of blue dots. At the center of the grid was a single yellow, flashing dot. 

The smile returned to Loki’s face. “There we are.”


End file.
